


Where It All Began

by Sultanspride (Llama)



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Pony Play, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama/pseuds/Sultanspride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen has a secret, and Jared just can't leave it alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where It All Began

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the [Pony Treat 'verse](http://sultanspride.livejournal.com/2504.html). There is a part 2 to come when I'm able to finish it, so if you can't stand (mild) cliffhangers I recommend waiting until it is complete.

  
  
After working with Jensen for three full years, Jared would have said there was nothing left for him to find out about the guy.

That illusion is shattered less than a week after Jensen moves in.

"Riding, Jensen?" Jared says. His banana pineapple smoothie is dripping all over the kitchen floor while he stares. Sadie is gonna think it's her birthday. "Really?"

Jensen looks mildly annoyed, his brow scrunching up briefly and his hand wiping across his mouth. Jared puts his fingers to his own mouth instinctively, and oh great, now he has gunk all over his chin too.

"Yeah, _really_."

And sure, they're both from Texas, but Jared hasn't been on a horse since he was eleven years old and Uncle Joe sold the ranch. He's pretty sure Jensen has never mentioned riding before either.

The ranch was cool, though. He remembers running noisily through the yard, asking what this piece of equipment was, or what that brush was for. He has a sudden glimpse of laughing with Jeff as he was buried in hay. He remembers sitting on the fence between the grown ups and listening to them talk about quarterhorses and bloodlines while he picked bits of straw out of his hair.

"Can I come?" Jared licks the spilt juice off his hands and tries not to drip it on Sadie's head. It would really take the shine off not having to wipe the floor if he has to spend an hour bathing her today.

"Dude," Jensen says, like Jared's said something outrageous. "No."

"But-"

"You don't have the gear," Jensen says firmly. "You need the right… clothes. Shit like that."

"I could watch!" Jared calls after him, but the door closes with a firm click.

"Hey, Shannon," Jared says on Monday morning. "Did you know Jensen rides?"

Jensen is scowling, but it's hard to tell if that's because of Jared or just because it's practically the ass-crack of dawn still.

"Yeah?" Shannon tilts his chin up and sprays more tan on his neck. "Where at? I've been up to North Shore a few times with my cousin, she's very into it."

"Private club," Jensen says, and buries his face in his coffee. Jeannie shrieks something about his pores and thwaps him on the back of the head with her comb.

Jared rolls his eyes and catches Shannon doing the same in the mirror.

"Holl-y-wood," she sings, off-key as ever. Jared hums along, but he keeps his eyes on Jensen.

"Not going Hollywood," Jensen mutters. "Now will you two shut up?"

"Just promise you'll still talk to us little people, Jensen," Jared says. "You know the internet will hate you if you dump me."

"We won't embarrass you in front of your new cool friends," Shannon adds.

"I'll use the back door if you bring them round to the house." Jared's not had this much fun teasing Jensen in _ages_. Man, he can get mileage out of this for days if he doesn't overdo it. "You can tell them I'm your bit of rough."

"I hate my life," Jensen sighs, and closes his eyes.

  
See, the thing is: it niggles Jared. It shouldn't, because god, he sees Jensen all the time. They work together, live together, do most of their socialising together. He should be able to let Jensen have something he does on his own. He should find something he can do when Jensen takes one of his trips out to go riding.

But he doesn't. By the time Jensen is off on his fourth Sunday excursion since he moved in, he's barely out of the door with his attache case and suit bag before Jared is online. There are, apparently, many different ways you can dress up to go riding, but Jared knows Jensen. Jensen likes getting dressed up, he's picky about costumes. Jared would put money on classic riding gear.

He's ordered himself jodhpurs, riding jacket and a hard hat before he decides he's being weird and shuts the website down before putting in his card details. He hasn't got anything better to do though, so he ends up on google looking for private riding clubs in the area.

Apparently they're so private they don't have any online information.

The thought occurs that Jensen may be being less than truthful about where he goes on his days out. It should probably have occurred to Jared sooner, but honestly? He doesn't question what Jensen tells him.

Maybe he should start.

"So, do you have to wear the red jackets and all that when you ride?" Jared's trying a new approach – catching Jensen when he's still half asleep and his defences are down has worked on occasion, but Jared's never tried to use it for anything more nefarious than what Jensen wants for his birthday. Well, not often. If Jared was a superhero, he'd totally mostly use his powers for good.

Jensen's eyelids are heavy, but he inhales his coffee and sighs. "That's hunting. If you're in England. Like, years ago."

"Years ago?"

"Think they banned it." Jensen's yawn is so wide Jared can see right down his throat, even though he tries to turn his head to the side. Nothing pries Jensen's hands off his coffee on a chilly Vancouver morning.

"So you don't wear a red jacket." Jared mulls that over. "Do you wear jodhpurs? A hat? Do you carry a whip… thing."

"Crop. And sometimes." Jensen shifts in his seat. "I have breeches as well as jodhpurs."

"Boots?" Jared adds tall black boots to the image of tweedy, johpured Jensen in his head, and the effect is kind of dashing.

"Yeah." Jensen's eyebrows crease. "What's with all the questions, dude?"

And Jared doesn't know. Or well… he kind of does, but he doesn't know how to explain that he prides himself on how well he knows Jensen, always has. And there was this big secret all along, something Jensen had never shared with him. Maybe that's why it seems so important.

"I'm just…" Jared shrugs. "If you're interested in it, well. I'm interested too."

Jensen's eyes are still blurry, and the crease is still there, but his lips twitch just slightly. It's as much as a smile as you can get out of Jensen before 8am, even with coffee.

"What if I was interested in UFO hunting, or collecting buttons, or… knitting, or something?" Jensen's trying to sound light, but he seems oddly intent on Jared's face when he asks. "Or toad-throwing or whatever."

"Toad-throwing?" Jared can help it, he smirks. "Really, Jensen?"

Jensen's fist thumps Jared's thigh briefly, then it's back around his coffee. "Fuck off, it's early."

"Yeah, yeah." Jared wouldn't normally drop something quite as fun as the toad-throwing so easily, but Jensen is still waiting for his answer. "Dude, I don't care if you're secretly into crochet, bigfoot-hunting or furries, I wanna know about it."

"So you can tease the shit out of me." But Jensen's voice is warm, so Jared laughs.

"Naturally." Jared sobers. "But also? If you like it, it must be cool, you know?"

"Huh."

Jared nudges Jensen in the elbow. "After all, you like me."

As always, the schedule is packed. Filming a TV episode in 10 days is a tough job at the best of times, but an episode where they're playing two versions of their characters and the supporting cast is thin on the ground… that's a whole new level of hard work.

It doesn't help that every time one of the Sams is supposed to glare at the alternate Dean, Jared finds himself face-to-face with a Jensen that is… not quite the same as usual. Jensen is supposed to be playing him less defensive than real!Dean, it's true, and he's supposed to be confused about what's going on, looking for answers. But the searching look when their faces are up close? Somehow that seems like all Jensen.

Maybe because Jensen is still looking at him that way when they aren't filming.

"What?" Jared asks in the end, when he looks up from his lunch to find Jensen's thoughtful gaze still resting on him.

"Just thinking," Jensen says, and he won't elaborate, no matter how much juice Jared flicks at him.

"Jeannie's about to _kill_ you," Jensen says, with some satisfaction, looking over Jared's shoulder, and Jared remembers he needs to be elsewhere.

"You done thinking yet?" Jared asks when they're settled in the back of the car for the journey home. Harley's head is heavy in his lap, and he kind of wishes someone would pat his head sometimes the way he's petting Harley.

Jensen doesn't answer, so Jared turns to look at him. Jensen's eyes are kinda serious, but he's smiling. "I think so," he says, and closes his eyes.

"So, I was thinking," Jensen says abruptly. "Maybe you want to come with next Saturday."

Jared gapes. Really, the most he'd expected was that Jensen would maybe show him his riding gear. At best, maybe Jensen would model it for him. He'd been kind of looking forward to that. Jensen would look good in that gear.

"I'll be so good, I will," he says. "Do I need to get clothes? Because I can, I will!" It wasn't like he was quite as into the whole dressing up deal as Jensen, but it could be cool.

"You don't need anything," Jensen says. "Just. Keep an open mind, yeah?"

Jared has tried to imagine the place, full of uppity types and the filthy rich. They can't be too bad if Jensen can stand to hang around them though. Can they?

"I can do that," he says, and grins.

  
Jared is the first to admit he's usually a giant pain in the ass on car trips when Jensen is driving. Constant guzzling of candy, asking 'are we there yet?' every ten minutes just to see how long it takes Jensen to slap him, and generally acting like a hyperactive five year old.

This time it's... different. He's not sure what it is – Jensen's secret case full (presumably) of his neatly-pressed riding gear, his aloof demeanour, or the matter of fact way Jensen checks the oil, fills the car with gas, and puts his gear in the back seat – but there's something between anticipation and resignation in Jensen's easy smile and dark glasses.

Or maybe it's those words of Jensen's that suddenly seem like some kind of warning. _Keep an open mind._

"Look, I—" Jared starts, but he feels like kind of an idiot so he stops there.

"What?" Jensen glances sideways at him quickly before returning his attention to the road. Buildings and signposts whizz past, the sports car eating up the miles as the landscape turns to trees and hills. The muscle in Jensen's neck looks tense, taut. Jared can't take his eyes off it.

"You sure this is okay?" Jared says in the end. It's ridiculous, because why would it not be okay – it's just a riding club, for Christ's sake. What is _wrong_ with him? "Because you can take me home, go on your own if that's—"

"It's fine, Jare." Jensen's voice is even, but that muscle, if anything, tightens further.

"I'm not even dressed for it," Jared sighs. He really isn't, because he's just wearing his worn-in favorite pair of jeans, a plain tshirt and sandals. He has a couple of jackets with him on Jensen's advice, but it's a warm day for Vancouver, so he doesn't think he'll even need them. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"Everyone dresses how they like, pretty much." There's something sly about Jensen's mouth when he says that, as though there's something he's not saying, but Jared can't work out what it might be. The thought occurs, briefly, that Jensen might be making a point by taking him up there to look like an idiot, but he knows Jensen wouldn't do that.

Jensen would do a lot of things, but he wouldn't be deliberately cruel.

"I could have bought riding gear." Jared can't quite let it go all the same.

"If you need anything you can borrow it for now." Jensen scratches at his neck before his hand thumps back onto the steering wheel. "But once you have a look around you'll probably decide it's not your kind of thing, you know?"

Jared has no idea what that means, but he lets it go. He has enough to wonder about to keep him going.

"Just… promise me one thing," Jensen says, and his voice is serious, his grin gone. "If you want to leave, just say, and I'll take you home. Okay?"

"Dude, you're starting to freak me out now," Jared says, and it's true. "What the hell--?"

"Promise me, or we're turning around right now."

What else can he do? Jared promises.

The driveway from the innocuously signed 'Ridge Gate – private' entrance to the riding school proper is long and winding. Jared cranes his neck whenever an expanse of grass comes into view, but he can't see any horses anywhere.

"Paddocks are round the back," Jensen says when Jared wonders aloud about it. "Everywhere is fenced, and the club's land is bordered by trees. It's very private."

Incredibly private, and Jared wonders just who the clientele are here that requires so many precautions. It seems over the top for Jensen, let alone the doctors, lawyers and bankers Jensen has warned him to expect, along with honest to god random members of the public.

"It's not a money thing, really," Jensen had said, but he hadn't elaborated.

"Do you have your own horse?" Jared just has _so_ many questions, and surely this one is innocuous enough. He's seen enough online to know that people often stable their horses at riding schools or clubs if they don't have their own facilities.

Jensen glances at him sharply, as if Jared might be joking. "Not right now, no." Jared can't work out if the tone of his voice is regretful or just thoughtful. "But there are always plenty available to work with here, so it's not a problem."

The parking lot is half full when Jensen pulls up, and Jared is intrigued to see that there are almost as many perfectly ordinary cars as there are Porsches and trucks. Maybe Jensen is right when he says this place isn't as elitist as Jared thinks. The building is beautiful though, elegant and high-ceilinged when they step through the doorway, and Jared is immediately impressed with the atmosphere.

"Changing rooms are this way," Jensen says, and Jared winces. Jensen's voice seems almost too loud and harsh in the hushed hallway. The rooms Jensen lead them to are more like dressing rooms than changing rooms. The only things that give it away are the tall lockers at one end and the discreetly marbled windows. To Jared's surprise, all Jensen does is open one of the lockers and put his case inside, locking it carefully afterwards. From the brief glimpse inside Jared can see there are several outfits in there already, so what Jensen needs the case for is anyone's guess.

Jensen takes a deep breath and turns around. That muscle in his neck is still taut, and Jared wonders for the fifteenth time that day just what Jensen is so uptight about.

"Come on," Jensen says, his face settling into a neutral expression. "I'll show you around."

Jared follows Jensen down the hallway again, only instead of turning right towards the main front doors, this time Jensen takes them down a couple of steps into a large hallway. Glass doors look out onto an expanse of well laid out gardens. On the other side of pathways and some tall ornamental hedges Jared can finally see the whitewashed walls of some outbuildings. From somewhere on the other side of them come faint shouts and calls.

Jensen leads him past the first set of outbuildings after glancing at a chalk board attached to the door, and onward to a low-roofed barn. This time he makes a noise of satisfaction and adds a couple of marks to the chalk board next to the scribbled names in stalls one and two.

Jensen pauses with his hand on the door.

"Remember what I told you," Jensen says, and pulls the door open.  



End file.
